Browsing Archive: March, 2010

Old words sound like waves splashingon wooden boats, smell like woodenfloors freshly soaped, taste like chickorycoffee roasted on open wood fires,like children waiting in one roomschool houses to learn the waytheir world is about to changeforever.

What will you leave behind forthose who come after you;can you spare some very small words printed onsome very small papers withnumbers of one and five and tenor perhaps some silver or copperpieces, perhaps, to purchase somemore words to leave behind?

Every day has a poem. I watch, I listen, I think, I pray. When I hear a poem, I write it down. Sometimes I find a picture that illustrates the day. I am always surprised. I hope you will be, too.

A writer of many genres, Sally Clark loves living in a small town with her husband where their grown children and five grandchildren all live within walking distance. Crowded with relationships, busy with activities, Sally takes refuge on the balcony of their old Victorian house - the perfect place to pen her thoughts.